Chasing Ghosts
by Lucie - or Lux
Summary: A Neal-centric fic, post-Lady Knight. Neal, Kel and Dom find romance and adventure at New Hope following the fall of Blayce. But when a Scanran mage with a grudge comes to call, can they overcome the odds? OLD, first fic, read at your peril! Discontinued.
1. Apologies to Fenceposts

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Disclaimer--I do not own any of Tamora Pierce's characters or places or anything. No infringement of copyright is intended by the publication of this story. I do own Skye. Haha, so there, Tammy! I do have something!

Dedication-- To my lovely sister Julia (aka Starlit Niphredil). I couldn't have done it without you. Please don't call me Meathead anymore, term of endearment or not.

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Kel smiled at the young man before her dismounting from a weary brown mare.

"Long ride?" Kel asked her best friend, Neal of Queenscove.

"Yes, I started out just before dawn. I wanted to get here before sundown," Neal replied quietly.

"Well, you had better wash up. You've arrived just in time for supper."

"Mm-hmm."

"What? Not 'Yes, Mother'? Is everything alright?" Kel's voice was gently teasing, but her eyes betrayed real concern. It was not normal for Neal to be this…subdued. And he looked tired, even depressed.

"Mmm. Fine. Look, I'm not very hungry right now. I think I'm just going to…go…to my rooms…" His words trailed off, and Neal wandered away.

Kel frowned as she watched Neal absently bump into a fence-post, apologize for not watching where he was going, then shake his head as he realized he was talking to a fence.

Something was definitely wrong. This was not normal behavior for Neal. Usually—except early in the mornings—he was lively and always ready with a quick retort. Kel had given him the perfect opportunity to use his sharp tongue, and he had said nothing. Neal wasn't the type who fell into a depression for no reason.

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Why he almost looks like he did back when he fell into fits of mistemper over his 'unrequited love' for unattainable ladies, Kel thought to herself. Then she shook her head at her own folly. That was silly, Neal had not acted that was since he and Yuki…had something happened between them?

But no, they were completely in love. There must be something else bothering him. Kel would talk to him. After all, that was what friends were for. And she wanted him to be able to heal. They needed every healer possible to help with all the wounded from the last battle.

Despite the fall of Blayce and his killing machines, Scanran forces continued to harrass New Hope. There had been many battles recently as the Scanran fought desperately to gain the upper hand in the war.

There had been several attempts to overrun New Hope in the past few weeks, and with Neal on a one month leave to visit his betrothed Yuki in Corus, Kel had put in a request for another healer.

As the toll of wounded rose with each battle, Kel had realized the need for a healer other than their ordinary group of hedgewitches and midwives.

If Neal had not been in Corus, New Hope would have been fine. But while he was absent, Kel had needed someone else to help her people. And for once, luck was with her. Her request had gone in about the same tiem as a fresh group of healers arrived from the capital. One of them, a young woman by the name of Skye Whyte, had been sent over to New Hope almost immediately.

Speaking of Skye, Kel wondered if she'd be allowed to keep the healer now that Neal had returned. She was sure Neal would be glad for help; she knew that sometimes he felt overwhelmed. Another healer was always useful. And besides, Kel rather liked the woman. Skye had a lively sense of humor and was brisk but kind with her patients. She did have a sharp tongue and a quick temper, though. Hopefully Skye and Neal would get along alright.

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True to his word, Neal did not attend dinner that night. Kel was forced to go to Neal's room and knock repeatedly on the door until he answered it out of sheer irritation to make her stop.

"Neal, I'm not leaving until you'll talk to me," Kel told him firmly. "Now what's wrong? You aren't eating, you're unnaturally quiet and worst of all, you won't say anything about it! What's happened? Is is your father? Is it Alanna? Is it, is it--"

"Nothing's wrong," Neal sighed. "I'm just not hungry."

"Since when are you not hungry?" Kel wanted to know. "You're always hungry. It's not as if we're having nothing but vegetables for dinner."

"It's just…"

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"What?"

"I never thought this would happen," Neal admitted. "Everything was perfect. I never expected that anything would go wrong."

Kel's gaze softened. "What went wrong?" she asked gently. "Neal, it's best for you to talk about it. It won't do you any good to keep it inside."

"Yuki," Neal said flatly. "From the very beginning, our relationship was like a dream. Everything was right, as if we were meant to be. But then, when I visited, nothing was perfect anymore. We kept arguing, about everything. And, and she…I don't see her as I once did. And I don't know why, but nothing felt the same."

"Neal, I'm so sorry," Kel said quietly.

"And then, when I told Yuki that I wasn't sure that we should get married, she starting muttering under her breath in Yamani. Then she said she felt the same way, but…" Neal stopped.

"But what?"

"Those weeks I spent in Corus seem almost surreal. Before we decided to break it off, everytime I was around her, I felt awkward and…uncomfortable. And then when I was alone, I felt like I was living a lie. But there was someone else. Kel, she had stopped loving me. And as soon as she realized she didn't want to be with me, she found someone else. Before we even had a chance to talk." At this, Neal's words stopped, and a single tear coursed down his cheek.

Kel put her arms around him, and let him cry for his loss. Some time later, he spoke again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down like that. I just…"

"It's fine," Kel told him. "I know how you feel. I've been through this. And don't think I didn't shed any tears over Cleon. I just did it where no one could see me."

"That's just like you, Kel. Having your emotional breakdowns where no one can help you. You're so strong. And here I am, crying on your shoulder about my romantic loss."

"Just like our page years, minus the crying."

At that, Neal managed a watery smile.

"Well, supper is probably over by now, but I'm sure I could talk the cooks into giving me some leftover food for you." Kel glanced at Neal. "Are you alright now?"

"I will be," Neal replied quietly.

As she stood to leave, he spoke again.

"Kel, thank you."

She smiled, and shut the door softly behind her.

A/N-- Well there it is. Now, this is not a Kel/Neal fic. I hope it didn't seem like that too much. I was trying to capture their friendship, and nothing more. Skye will be making an appearance in the next chapter. Sorry if there are horrible grammer and/or spelling errors, but I HAVE NO BETA! So it's not my fault. Ahem. My sister was too busy jumping around shouting "Neal! Neal!" to proof-read my chappie. So I'd like a beta if anyone's interested. Hopefully I don't sound completely daft, cos I'm not. Mostly.


	2. Old Friends

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Disclaimer-- I do not own anything of Tammy's. I have also discovered that since I have not paid for a copywrite on Skye, I do not technically own her either. However, if you steal her, I will come and get you in the night and eat your toes. With mustard.

Dedication-- To my best friend Mary, for encouraging me to write and pursue my ideas. If I was making money off this (unfortunately I am not), I would take you to wherever Johnny Depp lives. Thanks for always being there for me.

So, onwards.

Skye Whyte woke that morning with a groan. She had been up late the night before reading and after healing all day, she now decided that her late hours had been a mistake. Her head ached fiercely, and she stumbled over to her chest of drawers blindly, eyes only half-open, to grope for the potion that would cure her headache. Skye often had trouble sleeping and would usually keep her candle burning late into the night. She would then regret her few hours of sleep the next morning, but never seemed able, or willing, to break her bad habit.

She sipped the potion and sighed in relief as her head stopped throbbing almost immediately. She had spelled the stuff herself, and made it strong enough to relieve even the fiercest of her headaches.

Skye dressed quickly in a shirt and breeches, then ran her fingers through her unruly black hair. Her curls were nearly impossible to tame; she didn't usually bother trying to brush them.

As Skye headed out the door, she remembered that Keladry had told her the day before that Neal of Queenscove had arrived. She smiled absently to herself before closing the door behind her.

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In the breakfast mess, Skye took her food from the servers, then glanced around the room. She headed over to the table where Kel sat with Neal.

As she drew near the table where they sat, Skye addressed Neal, "Well, it's good to see that you earned your knighthood without losing any limbs. You know, back at the University, we all had bets going on how long you'd last before you came crawling back to our classrooms and debates."

Neal looked up at the slim young woman before him. His stunned green eyes met her amber ones, set beneath even brows and below a tangle of black curls. A long, slender nose was decorated with a small silver stud--that was new, at least. He stared at the woman with a shocked expression on his face. "What in Mithros' name are _you_ doing here?"

Skye grinned and continued as if Neal had never spoken. "Although we should have known; you're so stubborn that once you'd put your mind to something, you wouldn't shame yourself by giving up."

Neal smiled crookedly. "And I should have known that you would never lose your talent for showing up in the oddest places. Again I ask, what are you doing here?"

"Eating breakfast," Skye replied promptly before shoving porridge into her mouth.

Neal sighed gustily. "You know what I mean. _Here, _in New Hope, in the North, in a _warzone _no less. If I remember correctly, you were no warrior."

"I'm here to help heal. As it would seem, you're needed so badly here that with you gone, it was necessary to call me in to provide my services. Goddess only knows why you're believed to be so valuable," she teased.

"Apparently, others share that opinion," Neal said quietly, losing the smile he had worn during their friendly banter and looking down at the table.

"What's that supposed to--" Skye began, but Kel, who knew that Neal was thinking of Yuki again, chose that moment to speak, hoping to distract Neal from his lost love. "I'm feeling slightly confused here. You two know each other?"

"Unfortunately, yes. We were at the University together for a year before he came up with the idea of becoming a knight," Skye explained. "He and I were in the same year and had most of our classes together. After he left though, we pretty much lost track of each other."

Neal sighed again. "Well I tried to keep in touch. It became frustrating after I only received one of your letters for every five of mine. When I received one of yours for every ten of mine, I just about gave up."

Skye smiled at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't very good at writing."

"You always made good marks on the papers the Masters assigned us," Neal retorted.

"Yes, but that's different. I was actually motivated to write those papers. I mean, they told us they would make our noses purple with their magic if we didn't do the assigned work."

Kel shuddered. "Well, I'm glad I'm not Gifted and never had the need to attend the University."

Neal looked at Kel. "No, instead you decided to become a knight, with The Stump constantly threatening us all with the loss of life and limb. That's so much better than purple noses, I'm sure," he commented sarcastically. He turned to Skye. "Speaking of noses, when did you do that?" He touched her nose-ring with one finger.

"Oh, well, um, it's a long story. Basically I wasn't myself, that is to say, sober," she replied, grinning. "But I decided I liked it. It wasn't the strangest thing that went on among University students. When I left, everyone was dyeing their hair blue."

Turning to Kel, Skye asked, "Could you delay sending your reports to the Lord Wyldon? I need to do an invertory of our supplies, and I was hoping to send in some requests with your papers. It wouldn't need to be a long delay, just until noon, maybe. Long enough for me to look over our supplies."

"I think I could wait until noon to send the courier. Is there anything you would need help with?" Kel inquired. "I could send one of the clerks to assist with the inventory."

"That would be nice," Ske replied gratefully. "I despise making lists. If I could just--"

She was cut off abruptly when Neal interrupted. "You haven't used up all of my burn salves, have you?"

"Burn salves? There was a _battle_, not a fire, you numbskull," Skye responded. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of making more burn salve if we ever do run out. What I'm worried about is our supply of poppies. If we run out of that, there's not much else in the way of painkillers." She sipped another spoonful of porridge and made a face. "It's cold."

"Now why would that be?" Neal asked drily. Then, continuing the previous topic, he added thoughtfully, "Poppies are a necessity for a healer. It's very difficult to work on a patient who won't stop screaming. And besides, it's best for them not to feel much while we work."

"Why don't you check and see how much we need," Kel suggested. "And then I'll send in a request for poppies and whatever else is needed. And I'll have one of the clerks come help you."

"Alright," Skye replied, and quickly finished her porridge, a pained expression on her face. "Remind me never to let my porridge sit like that again," she told Kel and Neal, then left to take her inventory, Neal following her.

Kel watched them leave together, arguing about something. She smiled thoughtfully. It was good Neal had run into an old friend. She wondered if the sparks flying between them would lead anywhere.

**A/N -- Questions? Comments? Interpretive dances? Review, and all shall be revealed. I would also like to thank my beautiful reviewers. I love you all.**

Second Disclaimer -- All interpretive dances belong to Niall.


	3. Skye Cooks and Disaster Strikes

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New and Improved Disclaimer-- Not. Mine.

Dedication -- To my cat, Mr. Wiskerson, because he sat in my lap the entire time I was writing this, and I like to think that his purring wards off writers block.

Neal glared at Kel. "But I don't want to!"

"You sound like my five-year-old nephew," Kel informed him. "Everyone has food preparation at some point. I've done it. You can't avoid it forever."

"You avoid carpentry," Neal retorted.

"That's different. They won't let me help." Kel sighed. "Look, if it makes it any better, I'll have Skye help you. She hasn't had kitchen duty yet either, and you two always seem to have something to talk--or argue--about."

"But I don't like cooking, just ask Alanna!" Neal protested.

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Neal surveyed the kitchen, Skye at his side. She snorted quietly, causing him to glance over at her.

"Don't be negative," he chided.

"I'm not!" she protested. They looked at the kitchen, back at each other, then at the kitchen again. Skye sighed. "Just worried."

"About what?" Neal wanted to know. "I'll have you know that I am quite adept at cooking."

Skye rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you are," she told him. "But I'm not."

Neal stared at her, then laughed. "Skye, you can't be that awful a cook," he assured her. "We'll just give it a try, alright?"

She muttered under her breath, but shrugged her agreement. "What are we going to cook?"

"Stew," was Neal's response. "With meat and potatoes in it. That's fairly easy."

Skye shook her head. "We need something green in it as well. A vegetable."

"Anything but vegetables!" Neal cried dramatically, throwing out his arms with a flourish. Skye raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

"We need some kind of vegetable," she insisted. "What about broccoli?"

"Broccoli is poisonous," Neal told her.

"Broccoli it is, then," Skye announced, ignoring Neal.

"Very well," he sighed. After rummaging about in a cupboard, he turned to face Skye again. "Oh dear. I can't find the broccoli. I guess we won't be using it in our stew."

"It's right here," Skye said impatiently, holding up a sack of the 'poisonous' vegetable.

"Oh…I must have missed it," Neal said innocently.

Skye sighed loudly and turned to look for potatoes. As she turned, her arm swept over the counter and knocked the bag of broccoli onto the floor. Skye whirled around and groaned as she saw stalks of broccoli scattered all over the floor.

"Oh no!" Neal exclaimed. "I suppose now we can't eat any of it, since it's contaminated."

"It's not contaminated!" Skye snapped. "It's only dirt. Once we boil it, it will be alright to eat."

"No, no, it's contaminated," Neal repeated as he gathered the stalks and headed for the trash bin. "We can't eat it. Do you want everyone to get sick? I know what I'm talking about: I'm a healer."

"I'm a healer too!" Skye reminded him. "And it's not contaminated!"

"But it's been on the floor," Neal protested. "The bacteria on the floor has now transferred itself onto the broccoli!"

"Has not!" Skye retorted.

"But the bacteria will make everyone sick!"

"Will not!"

"Yes it will! It's been on the broccoli for a long time now, and it's contaminated!"

"Is not!"

Neal sighed gustily. "You can't win an argument by simply nay-saying everything that I say," he told her.

"I can too," Skye said stubbornly.

"Can not!"

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Now who's nay-saying?" Skye taunted. She ducked just in time to dodge the stalk of broccoli Neal threw at her. Picking it up from the floor where it fell, she lobbed it back at him. Soon a full-scale broccoli fight ensued.

"Ahem."

A voice at the door interrupted Skye from jamming her broccoli heads down the back of Neal's shirt. They looked up and saw a serious-looking refugee gazing disapprovingly at them. Skye dropped the broccoli and backed away from Neal.

"Can I help you?" Neal asked the man.

"I was just…cooking…" Skye told the refugee. "We were cooking dinner. Is there something you need?"

The man glanced from Skye to Neal and shook his head. "My wife was cooking our evening meal and was wondering if there was any salt to spare."

"Oh. Of course." Skye hurriedly handed the man a package of salt.

Neal cleared his throat. "Um, look here…what did you say your name was?"

"Amos," the man replied.

"Amos. Well, Amos, there's not really any need to let the lady knight know what's been going on here, if you know what I mean."

The man lost his serious look and smiled at the two of them. "Of course, my lord. I'm sure accidents happen quite often in kitchens."

Skye smiled back gratefully. "Thank you."

Amos took his salt and left. Skye let out a sigh of relief. "This is all your fault," she told Neal. "If you had just agreed to have broccoli in the first place--"

"But it's poisonous!" Neal exclaimed.

"Never mind." Skye shook her head. "Let's just finish cooking before someone else comes in."

Two broken jars and a spilled pail of broth later, Neal gave up. "You," he said firmly, looking at Skye, "will stir the stew. And don't burn yourself. _I'm _going finish any preparations which involve sharp or breakable objects." She shrugged submissively and complied.

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A/N I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. Skye is such a fun character to write. I'm not sure Neal is completely in character in this chapter, but seeing as how Tammy never wrote him in a broccoli fight, we don't really know how he would react. This is my interpretation. As always, please review. It means so much to me.

Lady Adrianne of Queenscove-- You will always be special because you were my first reviewer who is not in any way related to me or forced to read my story. Thank you.

dreamerdoll-- yea! Someone thinks my story's awesome! And of course there's going to be Dom, I love Dom (in case you can't tell from my pen-name). I just can't figure out how to get him to New Hope, _if anyone has ideas on that, I'd love to hear them_.

fantasyfan-- I think I've said this before, but I'm so glad to hear that I've got Kel's character right. I've decided not to worry _too_ much about Neal' character, this will just be my interpretation of him. That's pretty much what fanfiction is anyways.

alianne-- No I didn't like Yuki, she needs to keep her hands off Neal! I wanted to kill her off in my fic but my sister wouldn't let me.

**Helka-- Thanks again for your review of the story, I hope it made sense to you.**

oceanspike-- I updated, hope you like it.


	4. Musings

Disclaimer-- Tortall is not mine. I swear it's not. And this goes for the rest of my story since I'm tired of writing a disclaimer every time.

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Skye stood on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by the groans of the wounded and dying. For a moment, she simply stood in place, eyes squeezed shut, her mind in another place. A better place. A sudden shout broke her reverie.

"Skye!"

Another healer, a woman named Anmar, was calling to her.

"Skye, I need your help with this man."

She slowly picked her way towards Anmar, avoiding stepping on fallen men, horses, or weapons. Suddenly a hand grasped her ankle. A cracked, dry voice whispered, "Please."

Skye stopped, and knelt beside the bleeding man. He spoke again, "Please, help me."

She examined him quickly with her Gift, taking note of his wounds. The worst was a stab-wound in his shoulder, bleeding fiercely, staining the ground bright red. He was bleeding to death, and there was nothing she could do. He had already lost too much blood, he was beyond saving.

She looked at his face again; he was young, barely out of boyhood. Too young. Too young to dying in the dirt on some gods-forsaken battlefield. Too young to know the horrors of war. And yet here he was.

"Please," said the young man again, and as he spoke, Skye felt her eyes fill with unbidden tears. She did not let them spill down her face, but the young man saw the sorrow in her face and knew his fate. His own bright blue eyes filled with some emotion Skye could not name, and again his broken voice spoke, this time resigned, but with a hint of tremor in it.

"I'm scared."

Skye didn't know what to say; didn't now how to comfort him. In the end, she simply placed a hand on his good shoulder, and told him, "You are not alone."

He gave her a weak smile, and then he was gone.

At that moment, a Stormwing screeched overhead. Fear clenched Skye's heart, as she stood, she fought to keep from trembling. Skye was no warrior, she carried no weapons, at times she even believed herself to be a coward, but something now gave her strength and held her in place. Anmar and the other healers, the rest of the wounded men, the other soldiers--all faded away. Her world narrowed to the dead man behind her, the Stormwing wheeling above her, and the wild thumping of her own heart.

The Stormwing cackled. "What's the matter, dearie? Lost yer fella? No worries, I'll take care of him for ya."

Fear-sweat broke out between Skye's shoulder-blades, but she stood her ground. "You'll do no such thing." She spoke firmly, refusing to let her voice betray her terror at facing the creature.

"Oh? And how are you going t' stop me?" The Stormwing stopped wheeling, and dove towards the earth, claws extended…

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She woke in bed with a gasp.

The nightmares again.

Almost every night, she was plagued with dreams of those who had slipped away, those she had not been able to save, despite her magic. The young man from that night's dream was only one among many. His face, his blond hair and blue eyes, were forever burned into her memory. She didn't know his name. She didn't even know if he had been Tortallan or Scanran. But she would never forget him.

This, these dreams, were the price she payed for being a healer. But it was her choice. She could have stayed in Corus, could have spent her life healing nobles' sniffles and aches. But she had chosen to come to the warzone. She had chosen her life, and now she had to accept the nightmares.

The dim pre-dawn light began to brighten her room. Skye rose and dressed hurried; there was no point in trying to sleep now. She couldn't usually sleep after a nightmare anyway. She might as well get an early start on her work for that day. Skye had to spend the day mixing potions and preparing bandages, for she was running low on these and could not risk a shortage of them during the next battle.

Skye was at the infirmary measuring the ingredients for a medicine when a male, middle-aged refugee approached her, twisting his hands nervously. She glanced up at him and asked, "Yes? Can I help you with something?"

"It's my son, Miss," he said. "He's got a swollen head."

"Oh? Really?" Skye was unsure what the man wanted her to do about that fact that his son was a conceited prig.

"Well, you see, he bumped his head on the stable door and now it's got a big swollen bump," he told her.

"Oh, I see. Can you bring him here?" Skye smiled inwardly. She was amused at her own mistake and decided she was not quite awake yet. Hopefully she could brew a pot of strong tea to wake her up completely before the man returned with his son.

"Actually every time we try to move him, he gets queasy and complains that we're making the beans spill out. I'm not really sure what he means by that last past."

"He must have hit his head harder than you thought. When did this happen?" Skye followed the man out of the infirmary and towards the refugee housing as he explained.

"We found him late last night in the stables tryin' to convince the straw that commoners should be allowed the use swords. Then we took him back to our barracks, but since he wasn't any better this mornin' we thought we should fetch you."

Skye healed the young man with the broken head, but before she could return to her infirmary she was beset by a mother who insisted that her children had a stomach ailment. It took Skye the better part of an hour to convince the woman that there was nothing wrong with her children and that maybe they just didn't like her cooking. Next she was approached by a young woman pregnant for the first time who beseiged Skye with questions. And her day went on from there.

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Late that evening, Skye stood on the walkway of the wall surrounding New Hope. She came up here sometimes to have a peaceful moment to herself. Up here, there was no one to tell her they had pains in their back or complain that their children had lice. She had volunteered to come north in order to help people suffering from the war, but everyone had limits, and she swore if she heard one more complaint that day she would burn the infirmary to the ground. _Then _they would need those burn salves Neal had been so worried about.

Neal. It had been several months since their broccoli fight, and he could still make her laugh, even on her darkest days. Neal had occupied her thoughts for much of the time recently. However, for someone who was constantly in her mind, she was very confused about what she thought of him. Or what she felt for him. After seeing him for the first time in over nine years, she had noticed many differences in him. He was older, taller, of course, but there were other, less noticeable changes.

These were subtler changes, but they were there nonetheless. He still acted as world-weary as ever, but beneath that, she detected a sensitivity she hadn't noticed before. He had always acted very cynical when she knew him before, but now he seemed to posess a kind if compassion besides that. He had seen war, had seen real suffering, and that seemed to have given him a more sympathetic view towards his fellow human beings, though it was still partially concealed behind sarcasm and poetry.

They had been friends at the University, but he had been one among many, a circle of young mages who would laugh and tease and debate with each other. Neal had always been particularly fond of the debates; it seemed he had retained that over the years.

But they hadn't been the closest of friends, not until the very end. Right before he had left, something had happened that had intensified their friendship.

It was the day a messenger interrupted their herb-lore class, and after a brief, whispered conversation with the instructor, called Neal out of the classroom. Later that day, upset at being kept in the dark and wondering at Neal's absence from the rest of their lessons, Skye and some other friends had read the lips of several Masters' conversations and managed to piece together the news of the deaths of Neal's elder brothers.

Refusing to be discouraged when a red-eyed Neal told the group to go away, Skye had returned to his room alone, and convinced him to let her in. They had ended up talking long into the night. She could sympathize with him; she knew how it felt to lose a loved one-she had lost both parents to a plague when she was seven. She had even made him smile, amusing him with stories of her own brothers and their numerous escapades while trying to raise her, their littlest sibling and only sister.

She had been the first to know he planned on leaving the University to become a knight. She had helped him pack his things. And she had been the only one who received a good-bye kiss, or so she hoped.

And then she had been the one who lost touch with him. She had been the one who stopped writing weekly. And she still wasn't sure why. She supposed she had been frustrated with reading his letters but never seeing him. And there were other…distractions at the University. There were other boys who had expressed interest in her. So she let her involvement with Neal die off.

But here he was again. He had resurfaced in her life and she wasn't sure what she wanted to do about it.

"Skye?"

"Ah!" Skye jumped and whirled around to see Kel. "Oh, it's you. I'm sorry, you just startled me."

"My apologies. It's nice up here, isn't it?" Kel leaned against the railing. They stood on the walkway of New Hope's walls as the last rays of the sun faded behind them.

"It's beautiful," Skye agreed. "Everything's so peaceful at night."

"Skye, I've been wanting to talk to you about something," Kel told her. "You've noticed, I'm sure, how Neal has been slightly…temperamental recently."

"Isn't he usually temperamental?"

"More melancholy," Kel amended.

"Yes, now that you mention it, I have noticed," Skye said thoughtfully. "Did something happen?"

"He was engaged…" Kel stopped momentarily, not sure how to continue.

"Oh. Was?"

"Yes, was. He--they--broke it off during that trip he took to Corus," Kel explained.

Skye shook her head. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he obviously won't tell you himself, and I thought you should know." Kel sighed.

"Well, thank you," Skye said quietly. "I wouldn't want you to--"

"Now what are you two ladies talking about?" Neal spoke up from behind them.

Skye jumped again and dropped the spyglass she had been holding. It tumbled over the edge of the walkway. Seconds later, they heard a loud exclamation as it struck an unfortunate man's head beneath them.

"Ow! What in the blazes--where'd that bloody spyglass come from?" shouted Merric from below. Kel peered over the edge to see if he was alright just when he looked up and saw her. "Kel, why did you do that?"

Kel tried to explain what had happened as Neal pulled Skye away.

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A/N--I'm not quite happy with the way this chapter turned out. I guess it's my first attempt at drama, which is my sub-category. Although, anything with Neal in it is going to have drama. I hope to have Dom in the next chapter for all my fellow Dom-lovers. Also, please tell me your thoughts. I'm a bit of a review junkie and I need my fix!

oceanspike-- Glad to know you think my writing is classic and fabulous. It's reviewers like you who make me want to keep writing. And thank you for your repeated reviews of my story. I love it when my reviewers keep coming back! Like I said, I'm a junkie!

fantasyfan-- I'm not sure what I want to do about beta-ing. I decided to go ahead and post this chapter because, well, I was feeling rash. I'll probably email you my next chappie, though, just so you can give it a look-see.

Gwen Lyon-- I believe I said it was NOT a Kel/Neal because, well, it's not. I was trying to write their friendship and not a romance between them. I'm pretty sure that's what I said anyways. Darn, now I have to go check…anyways, sorry you got the wrong idea. Hope you still like it !


	5. Realisation

"What are you doing?" Skye asked Neal as he dragged her away from Kel.

"Come on," Neal said excitedly.

"Where are we _going_?" Skye demanded.

"Wedding celebration," Neal explained shortly.

"But, Neal," Skye protested, falsely concerned. "Isn't it a bit soon to be discussing marriage?"

Neal rolled his eyes but didn't slow his speed. "I've always been impatient," he told Skye dryly. "Anyway, Fanche and Saefas got married and they're having a wedding celebration after the service. I only just heard, and I thought you and I deserved some fun. We've been working hard."

"We?" Skye scoffed. "_I've_ been working hard. I don't know where you've kept yourself all day."

Neal drew himself up, the very image of the falsely accused, and informed her, "I was with Kel. We had a--"

"Very important meeting. I should have known."

"Yes, yes, my dear girl. Now, here we are."

They approached a torch-lit area between two of the barracks that housed the refugees. The celebrations were already underway, and refugee men and women stood around drinking, laughing, and dancing.

Skye grinned. She could tell this was going to be an enjoyable night. Turning to Neal, she congratulated him, "Brilliant idea, for once. Care for a drink?"

"I'll get our drinks," Neal offered. He disappeared into a knot of people gathered around the ale barrels.

Skye was watching the slightly inebriated bride and groom happily talking with their friends when she felt a touch at her back.

"Did you get the--?" She stopped when she saw the young man she was addressing was not Neal. "Oh, hello," Skye told the tall stranger.

"Hello there," the man said amiably. "I just wanted to thank you for healing me when I cracked my head."

"Oh, yes, I remember you," Skye said. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," he replied. "By the way, I'm Braden."

"Skye."

"I know. When I heard there was a healer as pretty as you are, I made it my business to know your name."

Skye smiled, lowering long eyelashes. "Thank you."

Braden smiled back. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Yes, of course," Skye answered.

Braden took her hand and led her over to the small area where couples were dancing. Briefly, a unbidden thought flitted across Skye's mind. _I'd rather be dancing with Neal. _She shook her head, trying to banish the idea. Neal hadn't given any reason to think he was interested in her. He was probably still hurting from his broken engagement, and she didn't want to press him. It was best she just think about dancing with Braden for the moment.

Unseen by both of them, Neal stood just outside the ring fire-light, watching. He wondered why it bothered him so much that Skye would dance with another man. It wasn't as if he was romantically involved with Skye in any way. Was he jealous of the other man? Why was he upset that she was not dancing with him, but with someone else? He wasn't even certain if he even wanted a romance only a few months after what had happened with Yuki. The pain was still fresh in his heart.

Finally Neal came to his own conclusion. He had feelings for Skye, and he didn't want her to be with anyone else but him.

Mind made up, Neal approached the dancing couple and tapped Skye's shoulder. "May I intrude?" he inquired.

Skye turned to face Neal, slightly surprised. She hadn't even heard him walk up. She looked on as Braden met Neal's eyes, and saw something pass between the two of them. Then Braden gave a polite, if somewhat disappointed, smile and took a step back. "Go ahead," he told Neal. "I need another drink anyway."

Neal turned to Skye and took one of her hands in his. His other hand encircled her waist, while hers rested on his shoulder. Skye felt a shiver of pleasure at the presence of Neal's hand on her back, then scolded herself mentally. _What are you thinking? You just decided he wasn't interested in you romantically._ Or was he? He had interrupted her other companion in order to dance with her. And he had been the one to bring her here tonight. She shook her head; this was getting too confusing. Little did she know, Neal was having a similar reaction to her touch.

The dance ended, and Skye had to supress a sigh of disappointment. She needed to do something to get her mind off romance. Suddenly, inspiration came to her mind. She grinned, pleased with her own roguish idea, and turned to Neal.

"I have an idea," she told him.

"Oh no," he replied. "I hereby regard it as my duty to put a stop to whatever mayhem you are plotting."

Skye mock-glared at him. "Fine. It's not as if I need your help anyways," she teased. "I'll be right back."

"Wait. Where are you going?" Neal asked suspiciously.

"Latrine. Am I allowed?" She batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Yes. Please don't let me keep you."

Skye swatted at Neal's head before walking off on the direction of the latrines. However, once she was out of Neal's sight, she turned towards the man who was serving the alcoholic drinks.

"Ale or mead?" he asked her.

Skye smiled flirtatiously, hoping to convince him quickly, "Actually, I was looking for something a bit stronger. Do you have whiskey? My friends and I are having a sort of drinking…competition."

The man smiled back at her. "Why not? After all, a celebration is the right time for such indulgences," he replied, holding out a small jug.

Skye took the jug with murmured thanks, and instead of returning to Neal, walked towards the table holding non-alcoholic beverages. Aquick glance around told her all the the children and elderly refugees had already retired to their beds, and the remaining party-goers were mostly in their twenties or thirties. So she was safe.

Making sure no one was near the table, Skye discreetly emptied the jug of whiskey into a large barrel of punch. She had done this many times with University friends, and still enjoyed watching people's reactions as they realised there was more spirit to their punch than they had originally thought. The trick was not getting caught.

On an afterthought, Skye filled two mugs, one for herself with the regular punch, and one for Neal with her special mixture. Since he had refused to go along with her plan, she might as well find out what a drunk Neal was like.

Returning to where she had left her green-eyed friend, Skye found him conversing with Kel.

"There are more funds being sent to the war-effort," Kel was saying. "I've received the news that the refugees will be given help and money to find new homes soon."

"And what is planned for New Hope once she's been emptied out?" Neal inquired.

"Several Rider groups and a couple squads of the King's Own will be sent over," Kel told him. "New Hope will become more of a regular fort than refugee housing."Kel and Neal noticed Skye at the same moment, and Neal gestured for her to sit next to him on the log he and Kel were sharing.

"Since you seemed to have forgotten about our drinks," Skye explained, handing Neal his mug and sitting down, "I took the responsibility." She turned to Kel. "My apologies, Kel. I didn't know you were here, or I would have brought you a drink as well."

"Oh, it's alright," Kel said, smiling. "I'm leaving now anyway; I need to check on a few things before I go to bed. Tomorrow the first of the Own and Rider squads arrive to help the refugees begin to load up and move out."

"Is there a particular sergeant coming with those troops tomorrow?" Neal asked, grinning.

Kel smiled back at him. "Why yes, Dom's squad is one of those assigned to New Hope and will be here tomorrow," she told him. "And I'm sure he'll be pleased to see his cousin Meathead."

"My cousin Domitan is a squad leader in the King's Own," Neal explained to Skye, who nodded in reply. She had been wondering who they were talking about.

"Well, I'm off," Kel stood and bid Neal and Skye goodnight, then left the two of them sitting on the log alone.

Neal and Skye were debating the use of vervain in healing magic when Braden reappeared, and slumped onto the log next to Skye. A little too close, by her standards. Then he draped an arm around her shoulders and drawled drunkenly into her ear, "What's say you ditch this pampered friend of yours and you 'n me can find a nice private place to spend some quality time."

"No," Skye said tersely. "I'm fine just where I am, and I don't fancy spending 'quality time' with men I've just met."

Braden scowled. "Now look here, missy--"

"I'll ask you to leave my friend alone," Neal interrupted, standing. "And I can see you're not yourself, otherwise I might ask more of you. As it is, remember that when a woman tells you you're not wanted, you leave."

Skye cocked an eyebrow. Neal was being rather defensive of her. Not that she minded; she was glad someone was getting rid of Braden, it just wasn't usual for her to have men defending her.

Braden glared, but, overcome by Neal's rank and ferocious stare, slunk away.

Skye sighed gratefully. "Thank you," she told Neal.

"No trouble at all. And I need some more punch. Can I get you some as well?"

"Yes, please," Skye replied, her earlier mischief with the whiskey completely forgotton after the escapade with Braden.

Numerous cups of punch later, realisation hit the more-than-slightly inebriated Skye. Trying not to fall off her seat on the log that seemed to be rocking like a ship, she grinned while watching Neal flirt shamelessly with every female that came near him.

"You're drunk," she informed him after his most recent companion, a woman who looked to be about fifty who Neal had been trying to convince that age did not hinder true love, deserted him.

He stared at her blankly for a minute before joining in on her boisterous, drunken laughter. "You well so are," he said, looked confused, and tried speaking again. "Well so are you. And…I don't know why. All we had was punch."

Skye laughed even louder. "But see, I've only just remembered, I put whiskey in the punch." She dissolved into hysterical fits of giggles.

Neal grinned, watching her, and grabbed her just in time to keep her from falling off the log.

Skye managed to get ahold of herself, only to lean against Neal and attempt to whisper, although not very quietly, in his ear, "Neal, I think I'm drunk! Shhh! Someone must have put whiskey in the punch!"

Neal stared at her. "You did! You just told me!"

"I did?!" she asked dubiously, then gasped. "Ohh, yes!"

Neal sighed, then stood shakily. As soon as he had his balance, he pulled Skye up with him, and held her tightly against his chest. The small, sane part of Neal knew he shouldn't be acting this way with Skye, but his drunken self ignored his rational self. It felt so good to have her snuggled against his chest, and he didn't want to let go.

Neal held Skye close the entire time he was walking her back to her room. Once at her door, he did something he knew he would never have dared to do were he sober.

He kissed her.

He pulled her close to himself, and pressed his lips to hers, and she didn't pull away. Their kiss deepened, became more passionate, until they were hugging each other tightly, mouths locked, kissing swiftly and urgently.

Neal loved the feeling of his hands pressing her back, of her hands caressing his shoulders and the back of his neck. He loved the feeling of her body so close to his, loved their breaths mingling, loved the sweet taste of her. He hoped the moment would never end.

But it did.

Skye drew back from him quite suddenly, gasping for breath, her body trembling.

She spoke. "I…I…goodnight, Neal." She slipped into her room and shut the door behind her, firmly.

Neal stared at the closed door for a few minutes, getting his breath back, getting his body under control. Then he walked slowly back to his room, tumbled into his bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

A/N

Whew. This chapter gave me some trouble in writing it, but I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out. Now, I know you may argue that it's not in Neal's character to get drunk, but it wasn't a conscious decision he made. As to his being extremely flirtatious when drunk, well, he was always pining after women but never pursuing them. Since alcohol tends to make a person lose his inhibitions, I reasoned that a drunk Neal would pursue every woman he got that chance to. Skye, however, is a different matter. Neal is finally realising his feelings for her, and being inebriated allows him to act on those feelings without thinking about the consequences.

Now, I know I promised Dom would be in this chappie, but I had to figure out a way to get him to New Hope. Now that I know what I'm doing, I swear on the beautiful face of Johnny Depp that Dom will be in the _next _chapter. I swear.

Hope you enjoyed, and as always, please, please, please review. (begs shamelessly)


	6. Dom's Counsel

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Chapter 6

Dom's Counsel

-------------------------

Neal woke the next morning wondering why his head felt as if he had let Kel take a hammer to it all night. He sat up in his bed, groaning as sunlight hit his eyes, and remembered the events of the night before. He rubbed his temples, and cursed the inventor of whiskey. Stumbling over to his water-pitcher and grabbing a mug from a shelf, he poured himself a mug of water and added the drops that would cure his hang-over.

After splashing more water on his face and slowly dressing, Neal decided that he could make it the mess hall just in time to eat whatever was left of breakfast before the servers cleared everything away.

He passed Kel on his way into the mess; she was giving her used plate to the servers as he helped himself to the last of the porridge.

"Good morning," Kel said to Neal. "You look horrid. Late night?"

"Mmm," Neal mumbled by way of an answer.

"Alright," Kel said, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't have too much to drink, did you?"

Neal glared.

"I'll take that as a yes. Try to get to feeling better by this afternoon. We don't need the new soldiers to see our healer hung-over."

"What new soldiers?" Neal asked, confused.

Kel sighed. "I told you about them last night."

"Oh, yes. The King's Own and the Riders. I remember now." Neal grimaced. Forget the impressions of the new soldiers: he didn't want _Dom_ to see him like this. It would only give his elder cousin another reason to tease him.

Kel started to leave, then seemed to remember something else she wanted to ask Neal. "Do you know where Skye is? I haven't seen her all morning."

"Wha--why would I know where Skye is?" Neal answered, a little too quickly.

Kel looked at him oddly. "Never mind. I'll see you later. I'd like you to be there to greet the new troops when they arrive. They should be here around mid-afternoon."

Neal nodded, then headed to a table to eat his rapidly cooling breakfast. When he was about half-way done with his meal, the door to the mess flew open and a tousled Skye hurried in.

He watched her as she made her way across the room, but she evaded meeting his eyes. Seeing that any left-over food had been put away, she ducked into the adjoining kitchen and out of Neal's sight.

Neal sighed. She was avoiding him. He knew that he probably shouldn't have taken advantage of her drunken state the night before. But she had fit so perfectly in his arms, and their kiss had evoked strong feelings in him. He supposed she didn't feel the same.

Dejected, Neal headed to the infirmary. Hopefully there would be enough work for him to do there to get his mind off Skye.

Arriving at the infirmary, Neal began his daily routine. He had just finished checking the supply of vervain when a pretty young hedgewitch whom Neal recognised to be named Mirandel strolled into the room. Neal glanced up briefly, meeting her bright blue eyes for a moment, before returning to his work. _It must be her day on duty_, he presumed, before his mind returned to his task.

"Need some help?" Mirandel asked suddenly from behind him a few minutes later, causing Neal to jump.

"Oh! Erm…oh. No, I'm fine," he answered.

"Are you sure?" Mirandel asked coyly, her smile flirtatious. She put a hand on his arm and moved closer.

"Quite sure. I am perfectly capable of handling this undertaking on my own, but thank you," Neal told her. She was being too forward for his liking, especially since Skye was looming in his mind.

Mirandel, however, was not deterred in the least. Flipping long blond hair over her shoulder, she pressed closer to Neal, wrapping an arm around his waist, about to speak again.

Skye chose this most inopportune moment to walk in the door to the infirmary. Seeing Neal and Mirandel cuddled together, she assumed the affections were mutual. Filled with hurt, anger, and jealousy, she turned back out of the room without saying a word, slamming the door behind her.

She knew Neal had been drunk when he had kissed her the night before, but a small part of her had hoped that there was some sort of desire in him that had prompted the action. But the sight of him and the other woman had convinced her otherwise.

She heard rapid footsteps behind her, then Neal's voice called out, "Skye!" She quickened her pace, but he managed to catch her. Spinning her around to face him, Neal started to say something, but Skye cut him off.

"Don't think that after the way you've been acting, that I'll listen to you."

"The way I've been acting? But I--"

"No! I don't want to hear it. After last night, I thought there might be something between us. But I must have been wrong, since I see you and that hedgewirch seem to be on quite 'friendly' terms with each other. I was hoping…but I guess since you were drunk that kiss didn't mean anything. Still, you might have told me you were otherwise occupied with another woman. I let myself think…but it doesn't really matter any more, does it?" Her word spent, Skye turned away miserably, trying not to let her hurt show, but failing. She hurried off down the corridor, leaving Neal too stunned to say a word.

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled Neal. "Having trouble with romance, Sir Meathead?" asked a teasing voice behind him.

Neal whirled around, causing Dom to jump back. "Easy there. It's only me," Dom told him.

"I should have known." Neal scowled at his older cousin.

Dom shrugged. "Well, am I right?"

Neal sighed. "And what would you know about romance troubles?"

"Plenty," Dom replied. "My girls have always told me--"

" 'Your girls' are exactly what make me doubt your knowledge of love. You've had girls, but none of them were ever kept for long."

"Maybe I like it that way."

"Maybe I don't. Have you ever been in love, Dom?"

Dom frowned slightly. "Why? Are you in love? I thought we were discussing romance, which doesn't always mean love."

Neal groaned."You're evading the question. Oh, nevermind. I knew you were useless." Neal turned away and walked right into Kel, who had just come around a corner in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, Neal," she greeted him, then turned to Dom. "I was just looking for you. I need to show you the barracks where you and your men will be housed."

"That reminds me," Neal put in. "Dom, what are you even doing here now? I thought you weren't scheduled to arrive until mid-afternoon."

"Well, we got ahead of schedule," Dom told him, then addressed Kel. "Lead on, Lady Knight."

Neal watched them leave together, then sighed. He didn't want to go back to the infirmary, not with Mirandel still there. His presence in the infirmary was not absolutely necessary anyway, not unless there were wounded from a battle or the like. He considered going after Skye for a moment, then decided against it. He needed to work out what he was going to say to her before he saw her again.

His conversation with Dom, however brief, had brought some things to his attention. What he really needed to do right then was to clear his mind, to think about what he felt for Skye. _Was_ he in love?

Half an hour later, Neal was still pacing the walkway that was built up on the walls surrounding New Hope, still trying to sort out his feelings. He wasn't being very successful. He was watching a Rider group take packs off their ponies and head towards the barracks when his cousin startled him for the second time that day.

"Copper for your thoughts."

"Dom! Stop sneaking up on me!"

"I'm not sneaking! I've been standing here for several minutes. It's not my fault if you're too lost in thought to hear me." Dom grinned at him. "What's on your mind that's so important?"

"Do you really care?" Neal snapped.

"Of course I do, Meathead. I'm your cousin, in case you've forgotten. What's wrong? I saw you and the other woman were having a…disagreement in the corridor."

Neal sighed. "Do you know how infuriating it is when there's…someone…who…misunderstands your actions, and won't listen to your explanations?"

Dom nodded. "I see. So you've got a girl, and you care for her very deeply, and she saw someone else cuddling up to you, and now she thinks you don't care about her, and she's angry and won't talk to you."

Neal gaped at Dom in shock. "How…what…did you…"

Dom chuckled at Neal's open-mouthed surprise. "Well, most of it I pieced together from what Kel's told me, and from your reactions to things I've said. The rest, I guessed."

"Since when are _you_ privy to Kel's thoughts?" Neal asked, scowling, upset that Dom had figured him out so easily.

Shrugging, Dom told him, "We're not discussing my ro--we're not discussing me, we're discussing _your_ romantic life."

"Or lack thereof," Neal put in gloomily. "I'm not even sure I should have a romantic life at the moment."

"Why? Because of Yuki?"

"How do you know _that?!_"

"Kel, again," Dom told his estranged cousin. "Look, if you really care for this Skye girl, then you should tell her. She has a right to know the truth."

Neal looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned abruptly and walked off, leaving Dom to ponder his odd demeanor.

"So did you correct matters?" Kel asked, coming up behind Dom.

"Yes. Well, at least, I think so," he told her. "With Neal, it's always hard to tell."

"He is rather unpredictable."

In the brief silence that followed, Dom made a decision.

"Kel? Would you care to accompany me back to my room? I have a…mathmatical supply problem I could use your assistance on."

She studied his face for a moment before smiling and replying, "I'd love to…help with with that supply problem."

---------------------------------

Meanwhile, Neal had reached Skye's bedroom. Knocking, he waited impatiently for the door to be opened.

As soon as Skye's face appeared, he spoke. "Can we talk? I have some things I need to tell you."

--------------------------------

****

To be continued…

A/N-- Some may say that my summary is misleading. I say that it is simply improving the truth to attract attention. :) And there was some Kel/Dom, if you're good at reading between the lines. Just pretend you're Alianne, and this is some sort of spy-thing, and your task was figure out how much Kel/Dom I could incorporate in a story that's _supposed_ to be about Neal.

Mary/constantine's lover- Thank you always for your continuing input and encouragement. I don't know how I'd survive without you. Hugs!

oceanspike- I'm dreadfully sorry I didn't send you this chapter beforehand, but I was in a hurry to post it because I'm going on holiday in about… (checks watch) 15 minutes. I'll be sure to send you my next chapter, though, so look out for it! Thanks again for all your reviews!

megster- It's true. Always beware of that poisonous broccoli!

Starlit Niphredil- Did I spell that right? Hehe, thanks again for everything, you know what I'm talking about.

the eternity- Thanks for your confirmation on Neal's character, that's something I'm always worried about. I really hate reading fics where he's just completely wrong, it annoys me so much, and I definitely don't want my Neal to be like that. And I've always thought it would be terribly hard to be a healer that also fights as a warrior, like Neal. It's as if the two occupations completely contradict each other. It would probably mess with my mind, but that's fairly easy, so… Also, I'd just like to say to the people reading this, the eternity has an awesome story about Kel and her friends, please check it out, it's brilliant, witty, and funny!

Saraswathi- Thanks for your review and I'm pleased to hear that you think Skye has fallen short of Sue-ishness. As to the implausible situations, now that you mention it, I probably could have done something else with Neal and Yuki's break-up, but that was my first chapter, so it's a little late now, eh? :) And the kitchen duty, well, I know that probably would only be cleaning and such, but I couldn't resist the idea of a food-fight, so I simply ignored the voice of reason grumbling in the back of my mind and wrote it anyways. And here's my Dom chapter, so I hope you enjoyed it!

To everyone else who reviewed, including calemra, DestinyHunter, dreamerdoll, PsychoLioness13, Jowa, TheWildMage, thank you for taking the time to type up and send me your thoughts. Like I said, I'm in a hurry right now, or I would say more to you all. But thanks!


	7. Neal and his Adventures

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Chapter Seven

Neal and his Adventures, or Misadventures

Dedication-- To Sofie, for being such a cutie, for dancing around with me while humming Jack Sparrow's theme song, and for "giving" me almost everything in my room.

Here's lookin' at you, kid.

xxxxxx

Skye studied Neal for a moment, as if measuring his intentions. Finally she sighed, opened the door a little further, and motioned Neal inside.

Glancing around Skye's bedroom, Neal almost smiled. Her room was almost as disordered as he remembered her room at the university being. Books, clothes, papers, used mugs, and various healer-related articles lay scattered around on every available space. The two sturdy wooden chairs in the room were both occupied, one by a pile of wrinkled breeches and the other by an untidy stack of paperwork and letters.

Perching on the unmade bed, the only accessible sitting area, Skye motioned for Neal to sit beside her. Neal did so, a little uneasily, and turned to address her.

"About what you…heard…saw…earlier, in the infirmary. Well, first off, you should know that was entirely one-sided. On her part."

Skye regarded him with serious brown eyes. "Alright. I believe you. But that's not all I'm upset about."

"I know," Neal put in quietly. "And that's not all I came here to say. About last night…I…"

When Neal did not speak for a moment, Skye decided to. "Listen, Neal, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty about what happened last night. Please don't think that you took advantage in any way. I could have stopped you, but I…the truth is, I didn't want to." Skye had now dropped her gaze to the floor, and her freckled cheeks were flushed a light shade of red. "And I suppose if you don't feel the same…"

"But I do," Neal told her, his voice soft and husky. "I just wasn't sure, until last night. And then today, when you…"

"Jumped to conclusions. I know I did. And I am sorry for ranting at you in the corridor," Skye apologised. "In front of strangers, no less."

"Strangers?"

"There was a dark-haired man behind you," Skye explained.

Neal rolled his eyes. "Oh, _him_. He's no stranger."

Skye raised her eyebrows.

"He's the cousin I mentioned to you last night," Neal explained.

A brief pause followed before Skye added wickedly, "He is very handsome."

"You only say that because you haven't seen him chasing after his horse in the rain," Neal informed her dryly.

Skye smiled. "Yes, but I have seen you being chased _by_ a horse in the rain, and I still manage to find you handsome."

Grinning good-naturedly at the compliment, Neal reached out to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind Skye's ear, then left his hand near her face, caressing her cheek. His other hand seemed to be moving of its own volition as it encircled the back of her neck and drew her face towards his. Gently, softly, he brushed his lips against hers, once, then again.

He redded slightly as he drew back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Skye silenced him with another kiss.

Neal felt his body react rapidly to her kiss. His heartbeat quickened and thrills ran down his spine and spread to the rest of his body until the shivers of delight seemed to flow through every part of him.

He pulled Skye closer, pressing his mouth roughly against hers, drinking her in as if she were the sweet nectar of life. Aroused with sudden impatience, he pressed Skye down on her bed below him, running his hands freely up and down her bare arms.

A small moan escaped her lips as Skye buried her fingers in Neal's hair and pulled him closer.

She was so close to him - Neal could smell the sweet fragrance of her hair, feel the warmth of her body beneath his. He was fumbling with the laces on her tunic when a loud knock sounded on the door and Kel's voice rang through the thick wood.

"Skye?! Skye, are you in there?"

xxxxxx

Kel shivered delightedly. Kissing Cleon had been one thing, but kissing Dom was entirely different. He's very good at this, she reflected.

"Kel?" Dom murmured into her neck.

"Mmm," she replied, burying her fingers in his hair.

"Is this too much? Too soon?" he questioned, his voice still muffled.

Kel pulled away and looked at him. Longing mixed with concern filled Dom's deep blue eyes. She sighed. "I don't know. I don't know what to think. When you kissed me at Steadfast, it was easier because I left the next day and we didn't see each other anymore. I didn't have to worry about how it would affect our friendship. How _does _this affect our friendship?"

Dom paused. "Well, I'd say it's a positive effect." He grinned, then turned momentarily serious. "Kel, we haven't lost our friendship. It's just changing - for the better, in my opinion. I'd hoped you'd agree. I plan on doing my best to convince you." With that, he lowered his lips to her neck, his hands tracing patterns on the small of her back.

"You're very convincing," Kel murmured into his hair. "This is just complicated."

"What? Kissing? It's really not that hard."

"Dom! Can't you be serious about anything?"

"I do try, my dear girl," he whispered into her ear. He rested his chin on her shoulder, delighting in the warmth of her breath against his neck. Dom had kissed ladies before, had admired them and reveled in their affections, but Kel was so wonderfully different. She was sensible, not giggly and silly or haughty and unapproachable. She had a peculiar effect on Dom's feelings, one that convinced him to be serious and careful with her. Kel wasn't one to be fooled with, but moreover, she was Dom's friend and he enjoyed talking and spending time with her as well as kissing her.

He walked his fingers across her stomach and up her breastbone until he could slide his hands around the back of her shoulders, pulling her close.

A sharp cry and a muffled thump interrupted their ardor. Other voices quickly rose, exclaiming over some spectacle outside Dom's window.

Kel pulled away from Dom. "What was that?" she wondered aloud.

"Nothing, I'm sure. It's not important," Dom said impatiently before returning his lips to hers.

"No, Dom. Something happened," Kel insisted, disentangling herself from Dom's embrace and standing.

"Kel, I'm sure that there are others who can see to…whatever happened," Dom protested, coming up behind her and circling his arms around her waist.

"They're my people, Dom. I'm duty-bound to see if anyone's hurt," Kel reminded him. She strode quickly to the door and hurried down the hallway, Dom trailing behind her like a forlorn puppy.

Outside, a large crowd had gathered by the barracks. At the centre, a man lay on the ground, limbs askew, groaning slightly. A woman, dressed in the uniform of one of the Queen's Riders, leaned over him, appearing to be examining him competently.

"What happened to him?" Kel questioned as soon as she had managed to make her way through the gathering of people.

The woman glanced up at Kel before returning to her task. "He was thatching that roof," she indicated a nearby roof-top with a jerk of her head. "Then he fell."

"How badly is he hurt?" Dom inquired, looking concerned, and receiving a look from Kel that clearly said _I told you so _for his pains.

"Well, he's not dead yet," the Rider informed them. "Beyond that, I'm not sure. His vital signs appear to be fine, but he's not conscious, and I'm not sure why. I'm no healer, and they only teach Riders the basics of medicine.There may be internal bleeding of some sort. You'd best call a real healer in to look him over."

Without a reply, Kel hurried away in search of Neal. However, after knocking repeatedly on his door and receiving no answer, she gave up, assumed he was out, and continued to Skye's bed-chamber.

Banging loudly on the door, she shouted, "Skye?! Skye, are you in there?"

xxxxxx

Neal groaned. "Rotted daffodils. What does she want?"

"Shhh," Skye hushed him.

"Skye?! There's a man who needs a healer!" Kel shouted again.

"That's what she wants," Skye told Neal. "I should go."

"Wait!" Neal protested. "What about me?"

"Oh, that's right. Kel can't see you in here, she might suspect something." Skye was talking in a rapid whisper as she glanced around the room, looking for a hiding place for Neal.

"No. That's not what I--"

"Quick, under the bed!"

"What?!"

"Now!"

Grumbling, Neal crawled under Skye's bed while she straightened her clothes and tamed her hair. As soon as he was out of sight, she pulled open the door, spoke with Kel briefly, and hurried out the door.

****

-To be continued-

xxxxxx

****

A/N-- I'm getting more and more twisted by the day, aren't I? This chappie was practically all fluff. I don't know what's wrong with me. Eh, moving on. Not much else to say, besides, review!

the eternity- Well, there was no 'undying love' or courting, just some good old snogging. :) And thanks so much for the flattery, although I'm not at all sure that I deserve it. Thanks so much for your review! ::hands you a half-baked brownie:: Yeah, those brownies aren't quite done. I was in a hurry…::sheepish smile::

Fantasizing-Lady-Knight- Thanks for the -incredibly- positive review! I went all red when I was reading it. You really encouraged me to keep writing. Thanks again!

PsychoLioness13- Yes, but the summary got you to read the story, so it worked, didn't it? And don't feel -too- sorry for her. After all, she does have Neal…

dreamerdoll- I must admit, if given the chance, I would probably throw myself at Neal as well.

Secret Agent Angel- Does this chapter answer your question? Thanks for the review!

constantine's lover- ::blushes::

sora- I know how you feel. I hate reading something that has a cliff-hanger, but I can't resist using them myself. Hope you liked this chapter, though!

fantasyfan- Thanks so much for your advice and encouragement. I don't know what I'd do without you. :)

Extra special thanks to waterdancer15, MysticAnubisOFtheRING, and KelDomForever for your lovely reviews!


	8. A Plague on Both Your Houses

****

Chapter Eight

A Plague on Both Your Houses

Dedication - To _the eternity_, because her reviews always make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. ::fangirls the eternity::

And thanks again to _fantasyfan_ for her helpful nitpicking. Couldn't do it without you, darlin'.

xxxxxx

__

Scanra

The mage closed his eyes, humming a long-forgotten tune as he conjured the evil spirits that dwelt in shadows. He muttered a few words, gathering the dark energy and allowing it to enshroud him like a cloak. A mirror of darkness formed in front of him, its surface clouded. Concentrating his powers on the mirror, the mage clarified the image until he could see the form of a tall girl with short brown hair grooming a large strawberry-roan gelding. This girl, this pathetic, contemptible wench, had managed to defeat the most powerful necromancer in Scanra and his nightmare devices. This girl had to pay.

She was a threat to the Scanran kingdom. Having defeated the source of their most powerful weapons, she was greatly feared, and was dangerous to Scanran victory.

He began to chant an ancient spell, sending wisps of dark magic into the mirror. A plague. This plague would defeat not only the girl, but all who resided with her at the fort. They would no longer be troubled by her valourous attempts to bring destruction to the Scanran nation.

The mage bared his teeth in a feral grin. This was just the beginning.

xxxxxx

__

New Hope

"Oh, look there. A book."

Neal reached out an arm--it was difficult; there was very little space under Skye's bed because various clothes and papers and what appeared to be a rock collection all made a home there--and grabbed a book that was nestled half-beneath a piece of cloth. Curious, Neal also picked up the piece of cloth. His eyes widened as he realised that it was a breastband. He cleared his throat and glanced around guiltily before remembering that he was under the bed, and the only witnesses to his discovery were the rocks. Come to think of it, that rock _did _seem to be glaring at him.

Shaking his head, Neal tossed the breastband away from himself and turned his attention to the book. It was _Ethical Contrasts of the North and South: Part II. _He had wanted to read this sequel, but then the war had begun, and he lacked the time to read anything, much less a book on philosophy. Of course, when one is under a bed, there isn't much else to do. His interest sparked, Neal opened the book and began reading.

He had gotten to "Chapter 4: The Role of Deities' Regularity in Building Sustainable Local Economies in the North", when the door slammed and soft footsteps neared the bed. "Neal? Are you still under there?"

Neal wriggled to the edge of the bed and poked his head out. From here, he had a perfect view of--

"Neal! Why are you still under my bed?" Skye demanded.

He shrugged. "You didn't come back."

"It's been two hours!"

"Well, why didn't you come back?"

"I was healing the man."

"It doesn't take two hours to heal a few broken bones."

Skye blinked. "I forgot."

"About _me_?!"

"Well…yes. What are you doing under there?"

"Reading." Neal wriggled back under and picked up the book again.

"Neal." Skye knelt by the bed and peered underneath. "I'm sorry I didn't come back, now will you please come out?"

Neal gave a dignified sniff, but didn't look up from the book.

"Neal?" Skye sighed. "Fine, stay under there. I'm going to dinner."

"Dinner?" Neal brightened. "My dear girl, why did you fail to mention the fact that the hour of dinner was upon us?"

"You just seemed so content, beneath my bed, with your book, and…is that my breastband?!"

"Oh. Um. Yes. It…er…attacked me."

"Neal, come out from under my bed," Skye ordered through clenched teeth.

Neal meekly obeyed.

xxxxxx

Kel looked up to see Neal and Skye enter the mess hall. She waved them over to sit with her, Dom, and Merric.

"As I was saying," Dom continued. "After falling down three flights of stairs, Neal just stood up, and walked away, as if nothing had happened. It was really quite amazing. Well, actually, it probably would have been more impressive if he hadn't walked into a wall as soon as he stood up…"

"What are you telling them about me?" Neal interrupted suddenly.

Dom grinned. "Nothing but the most highly complimentary tales of your earlier adventures, of course."

"Of course," Neal said dryly.

"And then there was the time he gave Mother a toad for Midwinter," Dom added. "He thought--"

"I think we've had enough of this conversation, Dom," Neal cut in. "You're boring Merric. Am I right, Hollyrose?"

Merric looked up abruptly. "Hmm?"

Skye sat down. "Well, highly complimentary tales or not, I'm _hungry_. I'm going to eat." Neal slid onto the bench next to her.

" 'Scuse me, lady knight?" said a timid voice behind Kel. She turned to see a petite, tired-looking refugee woman holding an infant while two small children clung to her skirts.

"Can I help you?" Kel asked politely.

"Would you mind watchin' the twins whilst I feed m' baby? If it's not too much trouble--thank you so much!" The woman hurried away before Kel had a chance to open her mouth, much less reply.

The twin boys stood unmoving, staring wide-eyed at the group of adults, until Kel sighed and motioned for them to sit. They complied, still looking rather frightened.

Merric appeared troubled. "Kel, you shouldn't let them take advantage of--"

"Hullo, there," Dom said cheerfully to the children, cutting Merric off. "And what might your names be?"

He was rewarded by an uncomfortable silence and the same solemn stares.

"Right," Dom continued. "So, then. Ahem. How do you like the food here? I think it's quite well. At Mastiff, it's much better, but the company is more enjoyable here…of course, the cooks' venison doesn't compare to the way my great-aunt used to make it. Do you have any aunts? I have four. Of course, Neal, my cousin there, he only has three. Don't ask how that happened. Actually, the truth is, one of them refuses to acknowledge his existence, due to certain...escapades. It's a sad story. Well, it's really rather amusing, though I wouldn't advise asking him about it. But you wouldn't want to hear about that, now would you. And then of course, there's the weather--"

"Dom, you're frightening the children," Kel pointed out.

Dom looked at the children, whose expressions had remained the same throughout his one-sided conversation. "Well, I'd like to see you try," he retorted.

A loud choke surprised the group. Startled, they looked over at Neal, who was rapidly opening and closing his mouth in a manner somewhat resemblant of a fish.

"Neal…what's the matter?" Skye asked worriedly.

"I think I swallowed a chicken bone," Neal explained, his voice hoarse, before gagging again. "It's lodged in my throat."

"Great Mithros, we were so busy watching the children, we forgot to watch Neal!" Dom exclaimed. "I told you he needed a keeper," he remarked to no one in particular. Neal managed a glare before doubling over, coughing. "Should we let him choke, or should we help him?" Dom asked the rest of them.

The children's eyes had gotten so large, they nearly bulged out of their heads. One of them tugged on Kel's sleeve, inquiring in a soft voice, "Is he goin' t' die?"

"No one's going to die," Skye said firmly as she reached over and pounded Neal vigorously on his back. He let out several more gags, then gasped as the offending chicken bone flew out of his mouth and across the table and plopped into Merric's soup. As Merric inspected the new addition to his dinner, Neal slumped forward, breathing shakily.

"Well, I think I'm done eating now," Merric announced, looking disturbed and pushing his bowl away from him.

Just then, the doors to the mess hall flew open as a distraught-looking male Rider hurried through the doors. After glancing around the room, he walked briskly over the the table where Kel, Neal, and the others sat. Nearing the table, he addressed Neal and Skye.

"I think there's something you healers better come take a look at."

xxxxxx

Hours later, Neal ran his fingers through his hair and sighed tiredly. The Rider had taken him to the barracks that housed the remaining refugee families where a man had fallen suddenly and mysteriously ill. After long periods of examination, he had discovered that the disease was not isolated in the case of the single man, but was rapidly becoming wide-spread throughout New Hope. The victims of the plague suffered from various symptoms including a ridiculously high fever, dry cough, and laboured breathing.

He had spent much time conferring with Skye, but neither of them could determine a origin for this plague. And until they could determine the source, they had no way of preventing further cases. And this affliction was like nothing Neal had seen before. The malady seemed to resist every attempt of healing. As more and more patients came into the infirmary, he could do nothing but watch helplessly and make them as comfortable as possible.

And the disaster had come to its climax when he tried to discuss quarantine methods with Kel. He had hardly finished his first sentence when she slumped in her chair. Inspecting her, he discovered she was infected with the disease as well. He had watched Dom carry her to her room with a faint sense of defeat. If Kel was vulnerable, everyone was.

Trudging to his quarters, Neal collapsed on his bed, staring at the ceiling with blood-shot green eyes.

****

TBC

xxxxxx

****

A/N -- So, did you like the chapter? Did you like the plague twist? Did you? Eh? Well then, review and tell me! It was actually reading _Romeo and Juliet_ in my lit class that gave me the idea, hence the chapter name. Also, sorry about the formatting issues in the last chapter. Apparently, deleted all the little spacers I put in to separate scenes. Hopefully, though, I've solved that little problem. Ah, yes, the last chapter. sigh I do believe this story is turning into a Kel/Dom. I'm ashamed of myself, truly I am. I'll also apologise for switching from light humour to…more serious themes so quickly. Yet _again_, my story is having mood swings. Yes, _my story._ Not me. I'm really starting to think that I need to see a psyhcological specialist or something…

Starlit Niphredil - She sings. With rockstar dreams. Doesn't realise. She's already a super-star. To me.

KelDomFoverer - I do so hope you revived in time to read this!

Annoying Chaos - Briar/Tris, eh? Well, I'm not quite sure _how_ you managed to stumble across this, but I'm glad you did, and thanks for the review! Even if I do prefer Briar/Rosethorn myself…

daughter-of-faeries - Oh no, what if I've become even more twisted! Wait…I think I have. I've added yet another twist to the plot! Glad you like so far, and tell me what you think!

Helkardowen - To answer your question, just watch out for the next chapter! I might have to bump up the rating…

RisuMusume - I completely agree. I never liked Yuki. Always thought our Neal deserved much better…

dreamerdoll - Funny you should say that. Did you know, I _almost_ turned this into a Kel/Neal at one point…and then Dom just popped up and I couldn't resist…

fantasyfan - I'm so glad you finally updated your story! I really love what you have so far and can't wait to read the rest!

the eternity - Dear thing, I couldn't help but give you a dedication. Every time I post, I keep checking my email, hoping for an eternity-review. And every one of them just makes my day. :) And are you _ever_ planning to write more? In all seriousness, I will hunt you down and threaten you with Kel's glaive if you say no.


	9. The Workings of a Healer's Mind

**__**

Dedicated to Skye McDaniel. For your love of your "namesake", your eternal encouragement, and supreme friendship. :huggles: Thanks so much for everything, sweetheart, and I'll see you at the meet!

Chapter Nine

The Workings of a Healer's Mind

Odd, wasn't it? How one could be so overwhelmingly tired, and not be able to sleep. How at first it seemed that the only release from the troubles of the day was the relief of sleep, and then, once darkness fell and weighed opressively on one's eyelids, sleep eluded all efforts.

Of course, when one's mind was overwhelmingly crowded with anxious thoughts about the conditions of various people, one's best friend among them, it did seem rather natural that sleep would prove elusive.

Or so Neal told himself, after innumerable hours of lying awake, listening to the watch call out the passing hours as he worried about Kel and the other invalids.

Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to talk with Kel. He would have banged on her door to wake her, no matter the hour, and though she might have been slightly perturbed at being roused in the middle of the night, she would have said something equally sensible and comforting, and Neal's mind would have been satisfied enough to let him sleep.

But not tonight.

Tonight Kel was indisposed, and this train of thought had lead Neal back to where he had started. Back to his earlier misgivings, and still far from sleep.

He supposed it was his fate to be cursed with a mind that needed to communicate its issues to others.

And that was how he found himself at Skye's bed-room door at two in the morning. Naturally, he hadn't thought about the impropriety of the situation until _after_ he had knocked. Several times.

But he had done this with Kel, hadn't he?

But Kel was different, the repressed, rational part of his mind told him.

Well, it was too late now, wasn't it. The door swung open, revealing a disgruntled Skye.

"Whaa?" she asked tiredly.

"I…couldn't…"

At which point everything he had planned to say simply flew out of his mind and he was left wondering why he had never done this before. Apparently, it was not so very hard to sneak unnoticed into a woman's room in the middle of the night.

"Neal? What are you doing here?"

Skye's words forced Neal out of his reverie, and he realised that he nothing to say except, "Can I come in?"

Skye blinked several times, still appearing rather sleepy and confused, until understanding seemed to dawn. "Oh. Oooh. Um, yes. Come in."

It seemed to Neal that she had misunderstood his intentions, and he was about to correct her, when she kissed him.

It was quite a nice kiss.

No, nice was assuredly not the right word. Certainly, nice was something of an understatement.

Moreover, it was enough to make him forget his original purpose in coming to her room.

****

A/N - Huh. I think I've become something of a hobbit. 'Twas my birthday yesterday, so consider this my (somewhat belated) birthday present. To you. Hobbits do have lovely traditions, don't you agree? I do apologise for the shortness of the chapter, but, due to evil conniving teachers and their homework, my brain has been in overload recently, and this was the best I could do. And now, if it's not too much trouble, if you could drop in a little review? Please?


	10. Discovery

****

Chapter Ten - Discovery

Neal was awakened the next morning by an odd tickling feeling in his left ear. He frowned – the sun was rising into his face – rolled over.

The tickling feeling persisted.

Without opening his eyes, he cast his hand out and came in contact someone's face. Covering Skye's mouth with his hand, he muttered, "Stop blowing in my ear."

"I will if you wake up," she retorted, albeit somewhat muffled as his hand was still obstructing her face.

He rolled over again to face her. "There, I'm awake. Now may I go back to sleep?"

She grinned, and kissed his nose. "No. You're very boring when you're asleep."

He glared at her in mock anger, and gently brushed her chin with his fist. "Forgive me. I shall try to be better company in my sleep from here onwards. How do you suggest I entertain you?"

She kissed him again, this time hard on the lips. "Like that," she informed him pertly.

"Hmm. I'm not sure I can do that while sleeping."

"Well, we'll just have to practise then."

Skye stretched, feeling as relaxed and limber as a kitten, and slid out of the bed. "I'm getting dressed – you should too."

"Of course."

Only, when she returned after finding fresh clothes and washing her face, he was asleep again. She sighed, and let him sleep. He'd been working too hard recently, trying to find a cure for the plague that continued to afflict the population of New Hope, trying to isolate the cause of the disease, trying to assure himself that nothing would happen to Commander who also happened to be his best friend.

She would see what she could do on her own, and wake him only when he was needed.

* * *

It was when he told her what he had sensed in his patients that she realised the true malevolence of whoever had done this.

It was one thing for people to kill each other in frenzy on the battlefield – though as a healer she had always had trouble justifying even that. She knew too well the devastation and suffering that followed the fighting** -** the suffering that was never mentioned in the ballads of the heroic deeds and adventure and bravery of war.

But this was entirely different. For someone to hate a people so much that he, or she, would send a plague like this, a plague that struck man and woman, young and old alike - this was true evil. Another evil those ballads never mentioned.

"It's not so bad, really," Neal said, seeing the look on Skye's face. "Now that we know where the sickness is coming from, we know how to battle it. It's no wonder our quarantines did no good. Whatever mage sent this plague wasn't bothered by the fact that we trying to keep all the sick people in one building – he just kept hitting anyone he could with it. And – "

"How do we stop it?"

Neal sighed deeply, and she could see the strain he'd been living with for the past week surface in his eyes. "If we can trace the plague with magic, then we should be able to discern the location of the mage who's sending it."

"And then?"

"And then, I'm not sure. Stop him, somehow, I suppose."

"How?"

"I don't know!" Neal ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. "I'm a healer, not a war mage. I can't conjure. I can't See. I can't blow this mage up when, _if_ we find him. I'm not even sure I can trace the location when all I have to go on is the traces of the spell he used to send the plague!"

Skye bit her lip. She hadn't meant to set him off again. And her magic was even more restricted than his. She may have had proper University training, but he'd trained with the Lioness. His experience was much broader than hers. If only –

"What if we got help?" she questioned, her mind searching desperately for a solution.

"From who? There's no one nearby with a Gift stronger than mine. If my father were here, or Master Salmalín, or even the Lioness, they could help. But no one's close enough, and I don't know how much longer those who are sick will last." By the end of the last sentence, his voice had dropped to a whisper, his head bowed. He couldn't stand the thought, especially of Kel…

Skye rubbed her temples, deep in thought. "There are others – other mages _here_."

"Hedgewitches. Midwives."

"The Rider groups all have a mage."

"But none of them have strong magic – not strong enough for what we need."

Skye forced herself to hold in her own frustration and think _harder_. Neal may have had more field experience, but she had done more research in her time at the University. While he had been out with the Lioness, she had been writing papers on healing theory, had had access to vast libraries. She must have read something, somewhere, that would help them now. And then it came to her, "A coven."

Neal looked up at her. "What?"

"A group of mages –seven, usually- who combine their magic. You could have the Sight of one mage, and the larger Gift of another, and when they're combined in the coven magic it's as if they're the same magic."

Neal looked up hopefully. "We need seven?"

Skye nodded.

"You ask the Riders who they've got; I'll ask the refugees. Meet me back here with whoever you find in an hour."

* * *

_Author's Note –_

_Er, I suppose I should start by apologising – I'm sorry I've been so long in updating this! The muses abandoned me, and I lacked inspiration. To be frank, I considered abandoning this for awhile, but I despise people who abandon their fics for no good reason, and I didn't want to have to despise myself, so there you go._

_**The Stump**, Thank you so much for your review on this! It was the first one I'd had in some time, and it really encouraged me to update._

_**lupusregina**, Don't worry about it, I'm very easily distracted too. Ooh look, something shiny… ::wanders away mumbling::_

_**PsychoLioness13**, Oh dear god, was the last time I updated this at my birthday? I hadn't realised it had been since October…thanks for the birthday wishes, though. I'm sixteen now, so I'm all grown up 'n stuff. ::grins::_

_**Starlit Niphredil**, I speeled it write!! ::snort::_

_**Atlanta Enchanted**, I haven't stopped, despite all appearances. :P_

_**Wake-Robin**, Well, this chapter is longer, so I hope that makes up for it. I had lotsa time over the holidays, so went update-crazy._

_**Helkardowen**, ::squees:: Thank you!_

_**dreamerdoll**, I'm actually, er, not quite sure what he was going to say myself – that's why I left it out. Heh._

_**KeeperofthePineNeedles**, Thanks so much for the encouragement._

_**Parcheezie**, No, no swim-team, why do you ask? I do run cross-country though, it's great fun._

_And of course,_

_**fantasyfan**, I still don't know what I'd do without you. Even if you're the only one still reading this, at least I have you. :D Cheers!_


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